Northern Alliances
by SharonH
Summary: They were the last of their clan trying to survive and seeking vengeance. Arthur offered them more. Not historically accurate: After the movie:Probable MarySue Pairings Galore
1. Chapter 1

"Why do we travel this far north Arthur?"

Arthur looked at his first Knight with a sigh. He knew his actions were confusing to his men. Arthur knew he could have sent them to do this task, but truth be told he'd wanted to escape for a while. Five years had passed since the battle of Badon Hill. He'd almost lost several of his valued knights before and during that battle; his brethren. Arthur had married Guinevere and had loved her dearly. His kingdom had come to be known as Camelot, and his castle had been erected more quickly than anything he could have imagined. Somehow they'd managed to survive and their kingdom was a place of peace and equality. His people were happy.

Other knights now traveled to his lands hoping to take up residence. They wanted to become part of the well known Round Table. Soon the northern people, clans as they called themselves, would be traveling to Camelot to pay homage to the man who'd liberated Briton from the Romans and Saxons alike. There were still sightings of rogue Saxons to the north, and recently there had been rumors of children living in these same forests. The rumors of children were the purpose behind Arthur's trek. He did not think there was truth to them, but they gave him an excuse to keep his mind off of other, more diplomatic issues.

Merlin was pressuring him. Arthur had thought his marriage to Guinevere strong and unbreakable. When she'd started to swell with their child Arthur had known a fierce love immediately. His Guinevere hadn't been strong enough to birth their child; a stillborn boy. As she lay dying she'd broken Arthur's heart. The name she called out for with words of love was not his own, but that of his brother, his best friend, Lancelot. That had been six months past. Now Arthur's thoughts were a confused jumble. Had Lancelot known of this love Guinevere held for him? Had they acted upon those feelings? Was it possible that Arthur wasn't even father to the stillborn child? Yet, Merlin wanted him to wed. Said there must be a Queen to his King.

Arthur and his six knights rode steadily. A faint wind was blowing, and Tristan's head shot up. He signaled for all to stop, and they heard it. So soft they weren't sure if it was real; it was a child's laughter. The men dismounted and headed to the edge of the dense woods. They heard the giggle once more and Bors looked to the others. "Downright spooky." he muttered.

The others could not disagree so instead said nothing. Arthur motioned and the men split up to search. Tristan went to the far left. It had been the direction he'd heard the laughter coming from. To his right he caught a flash of white running between the trees along with more giggling. Tristan relied on his sense of hearing and located the girl standing behind a large tree. She peered at him from large green eyes.

"Were you trying to sneak up on me?" he asked quietly.

The girl shook her head. "No." she spoke in a clear, sweet voice which was heavily accented. "But she was." The girl pointed behind him, and Tristan looked to find a red-haired girl standing behind him. He hadn't heard her approach, and he was more startled by that than by her appearance there. He didn't have a chance to move before the girl slammed her fist into the side of his head. He fell to the ground as blackness took him.

Gawain walked stealthily looking for the child. He thought of calling out for it, but would hate to scare it. Without warning something jumped atop his back and held a strange smelling cloth over his nose and mouth. All he caught a glimpse of before blacking out was red-hair.

Dagonet turned past a tree and saw a dark haired woman's body lying on the ground. He moved to the woman quickly, and saw she was awake. "Are you hurt?" he asked and began to look her over.

"Aye, my inner leg is hurting something fierce." She told him with a heavy accent. In the dim light of the forest Dagonet leaned closer to try to see the wound. The woman moved quickly and her thighs were clamped around his neck. She squeezed and he fought her, but he couldn't get away; he couldn't pry her legs from their viselike hold. Slowly he lost consciousness.

Bors strode through the forest annoyed. He didn't see any sign of children. Bors heard a rustling above him and looked up in time to see a blur moving towards him quickly. It slammed into his chest. He flew backwards onto his ass knocking the wind from his lungs. The figure was gone in seconds. He rolled over to stand up, and it was on top of him again covering his mouth with a stinking rag. The last thought in Bors head was, "I think this is a bloody girl."

Galahad searched the trees for any sign of the laughing child. He could hear her every once in awhile, and heard Bors cry out suddenly. "Bors?" he yelled out and got no response.

He stopped when a slight figure stepped out of the trees. The child was small with dark hair and shining eyes. She smiled at him sweetly. He found himself smiling back and took another step closer to her. "We're playing hide and seek." She told him in her sweet tone.

"Who's we?" Galahad asked.

"Me, and her." The girl pointed behind him. Galahad thinking another child was behind him turned and found a grown woman there. Like Tristan, a fist slammed into the side of his face and he fell into blackness.

Arthur and Lancelot heard strange sounds. "This doesn't feel right Arthur. We should have heard something from the others by now."

"I agree." Arthur kept his voice down. He had a sneaking suspicion they were being watched. "Who watches?" he called out in a strong voice.

Lilting laughter came from the trees, but he couldn't tell from where. A woman's voice with a strong northern accent answered. "We have your men Roman. If you're wanting them unharmed you'll put your weapons down and surrender to us."

"How do we know you'll keep your word?" Lancelot called out.

"Well, now, I've given no word have I?" the same mocking voice called out. "I simply alerted you to the fact that with weapons you have no hope, without weapons, you have some. I will say that we don't make a habit of killing innocent men."

It took several moments but both Arthur and Lancelot removed their weapons setting them on the ground. Four women dropped from the trees surprising the two men. Two with ebony hair, and two redheads who appeared to be twins. They were silent and looked as if they'd been living in the woods for some time; they were filthy. The women bound the men's hands, and lifted their weapons. A last woman dropped to the ground. She was quite lovely from what they could see. Even through the grime the men could tell all of the women were the same kind of lovely with either red or black hair, light eyes, and slender bodies. Their leather tunics and leggings accentuated womanly curves, and long legs. The woman in charge, because it was obvious who was in charge, was tall with wildly flowing black hair, blue eyes, and was obviously very ill. She was pale and her body looked clammy. Dark shadows framed her eyes. In fact they all looked in different stages of illness.

"Come." She instructed in her husky voice. They neared a small campfire where a small girl watched five of his knights as they lay unconscious and tied to trees. The spot had obviously been picked for its location and flat ground. The woman in charge walked over to the fire and took a small water bag from a pack on the ground. She coughed and it was a hacking sound. One of the others wrapped a strange fabric around the woman's shoulders. The fabric was a mix of burgundy and greens.

It seemed they sat there for ages, though it could have only been minutes, before the other men started to come awake. The women just stared at them from empty eyes, and the small girl, the only one who didn't look ill, played to the side with wooden figures. Her childish voice seemed at odds with the occurrences around her.

"Do you realize who you've captured?" Lancelot hissed angrily.

The sick woman stared at him. "We caught a bunch of men." She said coldly. The way she said the word 'men' made it seem obscene.

"Why do you hold us here?" Arthur asked.

"You will soon see." She answered him abruptly.

"Who are you?"

Her eyes narrowed, and then filled with pride. "We are the last of our people. Destroyed by Saxons and traitorous swine. Now we roam without land or hearth to call our own. Soon we head to the new kingdom to pledge fealty to a new king."

Arthur knew they meant him, yet said nothing. They would learn of their error. The bonds on his hands were already loosening under his covert ministrations.

"I do not believe they fit the description Bronwen." One of the red-heads spoke and her voice had the same husky tones, but softer. This woman moved to the leader. "Let me see your side." the younger girl ordered.

The dark haired leader lifted her tunic to reveal a horrible wound along the right side of her rib cage. Arthur drew in a breath in a hiss. Bronwen's dark blue gaze met his as she kept her pain in check. "Aye, they don't. They're too dark. The only one who comes close is that one." She pointed to Gawain. "But I won't turn any Roman loose without first checking." The woman winced as the red head pushed against her wound and it oozed.

Gawain's eyes narrowed. "We aren't Romans."

The small girl looked up from her toys. "She's here."

Another girl stepped into the small clearing. The girl was young, just reaching womanhood, and quite pretty. Curling auburn hair was cut short to above her shoulders, blue eyes and a generous mouth drew attention to her face, and made her relation to Bronwen obvious. She was tall and slender as the others were, and it appeared she was the only one besides the child who wasn't ill yet.

"Caity." Bronwen spoke softly, and walked to the girl.

The girl looked worried. "Bronwen, ye're injured and aren't well, what're ye doing out here hunting?"

"Caity, I'll be fine darlin'. I want you to look at these men." Bronwen led her to Arthur and his knights. "Look and tell me if he's among them."

The girl trembled, and Arthur could tell that just looking at his knights and himself terrified her. She looked at them for only a moment, and then turned back to Bronwen. Arthur held his breath. He'd managed to get his bonds undone, but didn't move. "No Bronwen. He is not among them."

"I'm sorry." Bronwen told the girl, and hung her head in frustration. "I've failed ye again."

The girl, Caity, moved to the older girl and hugged her. "Ye do the best ye can Bronwen. We can't ask for more than that. You're ill. It's time to give up this fight."

"Who do you search for that you would attack strangers so?" Arthur asked quietly and wasn't sure if he'd get an answer.

"Nigh on six months ago we lived farther north." The girl Caity addressed him as one of the other redheads tried to clean Bronwen's wound. "One day I was not with my sisters, I was off thinking I could care for myself." Her mouth twisted bitterly. "A Roman attacked me, left me for dead after using my body." A haunted look reached her eyes. "Bronwen has sworn we would find him."

"What will you do when you find him?" Lancelot asked. He found the thought of rape morally repugnant and found it churned his stomach to know a man forced himself on the lovely young girl in front of them.

"I'll kill him." Bronwen answered. She staggered suddenly and two of the women moved to catch her. "Let them go." She ordered, and sat down heavily. "Send them on their way. If you must fight for your pride then fight me, but if we fight it's to the death. Free them." Before the women could move to do her bidding the men stood having freed themselves. The women drew their myriad of weapons and surrounded Bronwen in a protective stance.

Arthur held up a hand. "We won't harm her. We won't harm any of you. Our man, Dagonet, is a healer of sorts. Let him look your sister over. She looks quite ill."

Another girl who resembled Bronwen closely in size and appearance nodded once and moved away. Dagonet moved to Bronwen and placed a hand on her forehead. "She burns badly Arthur. This wound is quite infected." He listened to her chest for a moment. "She is terribly ill. It's surprising she hasn't passed out yet, and it looks as if most of these women are coming down with this sickness."

"Come with us to Camelot." Arthur offered. "We can care for you all there. Weren't you already heading that way anyway?"

The girl, she appeared to be Bronwen's second, nodded shortly. "We go to kneel before the new king."

"Well then, you'll be happy to know you've found him." Lancelot smirked and nodded to where Arthur was mounting his steed. He enjoyed the nervous look the women shared.

When they reached the knights horses the women whistled and several steeds came into view. The women mounted with Caity riding with a sister, and the small girl riding with a sister. Bronwen sat hunched in her saddle and the group proceeded slowly.

"How did you come about the wound to your side?" Dagonet asked as he rode beside Bronwen.

"A treacherous lowlander sliced me up and left me to die with the Saxons." she sneered.

Bronwen's second spoke. "It was one of the MacGregor's."

"Damn the MacGregors!" One of the redheaded twins snarled.

"Aye, damn their blackened hearts!" the other twin agreed.

Caity sighed and looked at the last girl who appeared only slightly older than she. "Neely, sing us a song."

Neely, a girl with curling black hair, bright green eyes, and a smattering of freckles smiled. "All right Caitlyn dear." She began to sing and her voice was lovely. "Beauty is the land I call home, and the wind upon my face,"

One of the other girls joined in. "Beauty is the love I've known and the children I will raise. Though I'm now far from home, our dreams are still alive."

"And though I'm now far from home our hopes live and thrive." All of the women were singing now, "And one day when I return, when the years have passed me by. The blood will no longer stain the fields or tinge the bright blue sky. Beauty will be the land called home which holds the stories of our lives."

"Beauty will be the land of McCree, the land to which we're tied." Neely finished.

Even going slowly it didn't take them long to reach the castle. Caity gasped, "Why, it's beautiful. It's one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen."

Jols and Ganis moved to help the knights and the women accompanying them. With a collective effort they managed to get everyone inside, and the ill women to chambers. Once the women were at rest the men met at the Round Table.

"Will you punish them?" Lancelot spoke more quietly than normal.

Arthur looked at the men who stared back just as intently. "No. I think it seems they've been through enough. Not having a sister I can not imagine this thing that haunts them, but I can not hold their thirst for justice against them. We were not truly injured."

"No, for the most part they are children." Bors said gruffly. "All of them, so young."

"Even the eldest is younger than I am." Galahad added. "Even ill they used skill and cunning."

"They are similar to the Woad people, except cleaner." Gawain chuckled. "Fighters all of them. A group of women took out the men who defeated the Saxon army."


	2. Chapter 2

Bronwen woke to find herself in a large stone chamber with several windows. She was lying on a soft bed with soft blankets and someone had dressed her in a long white nightshift. She was clean. An old man sat near her. He was dressed strangely, similar to those who lived south of her lands. He stared at her for a moment before speaking. "You're quite ill. How long?"

Bronwen looked at him from defiant eyes. "She's been ill since before my attack. The wound came at the same time." Caity came out of the shadows; her arms crossed over her chest. "We tried many a remedy, yet nothing worked."

"We've cleaned the wound, and applied a salve. I have a poultice to put on your chest, and a special tea. It does not taste good, but it will help you."

"And how am I knowing that ya aren't poisonin' me?" she asked stubbornly.

Caity sighed angrily, "You'll follow Merlin's orders Bronwen McCree. Even if it means we have to tie ya down!" Caity walked closer. "All of you are doin' it. Not just you. Yer just the worst of the bunch."

Bronwen gave her younger sister a half smile. "Well, that's how it usually ends up now, isn't it?"

The door opened and the youngest of her sisters, Kerri rushed in. "Yer awake! Bronny ye should see this place. It's enormous, and there er people everywhere!" Her green eyes sparkled up into Bronwen's blue. Besides the eye color and the few freckles the young girl had, she was just a smaller version of the eldest McCree sibling.

"Is it now? Well, I'm thinking I should get better soon so'n I can see it for meself." she told Kerri lightly. She kept her trapped feelings to herself. Because that's how she felt…trapped. Not well enough to protect her sisters from all of the men within these walls. What if the Roman had brought them back here to face judgment for what they'd done?

"The other clans will be here in a fortnight." Caity said looking out the small window of the chambers Bronwen rested in. Kerri sat on the edge of the bed.

"All of your sisters will be well by then." Merlin said kindly.

"I thank ye sir." Bronwen said stiffly.

"You may call me Merlin." he told her softly. The door to the chamber opened and the dark man, the leader of the men they'd captured strode into the room.

Bronwen stared at him wondering if he'd come to tell her what punishment would be served upon her. Now that she was rested she could tell this man was important.

"I see you're finally awake." he spoke softly but with authority.

"Aye. How long have I been asleep?" she frowned. She hadn't even thought to ask that.

"Two days." Caity told her.

Bronwen's frown deepened. "That canna be."

"But it is." The man assured her. "I am Arthur."

"Arthur?"

"King Arthur." his voice gentled.

Bronwen paled. "Oh Lord." she whispered. "I've gone and attacked the king." Bronwen slid from the bed and onto her knees. She bowed deeply at his feet. "Please sire. Do na take it out on meh sisters. They only follow meh lead. Punish me, but na them."

Arthur knelt and helped her to her feet. "Stop. There will be no punishment for any of you. I understand what it is to want to punish those that have harmed people we love." She felt fragile under his hands and he helped her to sit on the edge of the bed. "I have many questions to ask. You spoke of Saxons attacking your people?"

Bronwen leaned back on the bed against the thick pillows. "Aye. At first there were only a few of the bastards, but more came and they began to grow in numbers. Meh Father and our kin to the east, the McDonnell's, routed the vile men, but we suffered horrible losses. It's sumthin I'll ne'er forget seein'."

"You were there?" Arthur asked through his frown.

"Aye. The women of the Highlands don't just stand by twiddlin' our thumbs while our menfolk fight. We all fought, save Caity and Kerri. And many died. The MacGregors attacked when we were at our weakest. They killed the last of our men, raped and killed many women. They burnt our home, killing the McCree; our father." Her eyes had become haunted. "He sent us out through a secret tunnel, but he died in the fire. We made our way to some caves we'd played in as children. Once the MacGregors had left our lands we went back to our home, hoping to find anything that had survived. There was nothing. Ne'er had I seen such a savage act by another clan." Bronwen could still hear the screams of her brethren.

Caity had come and sat on the bed next to her sister. She grasped Bronwen's hand within her own. "Bronwen, you do na have to speak of this now…"

Bronwen just shook her head. "We lived in those caves for three months. We're the last of the McCree. Our father, two brothers, cousins… they were all killed by either the Saxons or the MacGregors. We started heading slightly south. We were being cautious. I was jumped by two MacGregors while out searching for Caity. That's how I got the wound in me side. I managed to kill one, but the other ran… and then I found my Caity." Tears glistened in the strong woman's eyes. "That was the worst day of my life." Bronwen managed to compose herself and continued. "The news had spread to the north of the new king, and so we decided that it was time to stand before him. It had been something our father and the McDonnell had spoken of."

"So, the McDonnells are your family?" Arthur asked as he tried to separate the clans.

"Aye. The McDonnells and McCree are kin. Our mother was a McDonnell, sister to Douglas McDonnell; the McDonnell. There are…were four large clans; McCree, McDonnell, MacGregor, and McLaren. There are also smaller clans spread throughout. Normally the smaller clans seek refuge with those of the larger. The McLarens, led by Seamus McLaren, were at war for many a year with the McDonnells until a year past when McDonnell's daughter Tabby wed McLaren's son Jamie. Now they live in a tentative peace. The MacGregors are led by Niall MacGregor. The MacGregor is a large bastard of a man. He's lost his mind."

"He's black hearted and would sell his own mother for gold or land." Caity sneered. "It's said he killed all three of his wives!"

Arthur was taken aback by the vehemence in the young girl's voice. "So we'll have McDonnells, MacGregors, McLarens, and McCree."

"Aye, although without a laird the McCree no longer are…we're a dead clan." Bronwen told him softly. "And we'll be considered such."

"With so many of you I fail to see how that works." he told her.

She smiled faintly. "By now the MacGregor will have spread out taking the lands that were once held by McCree. Our herds will be theirs as well. We will have to petition to live with the McDonnell's I suppose…" She shook off the melancholy that surrounded her. "The smaller clans that would show up are probably MacDougal, Pitcairn, Tennant, and Wallace."

"Ah, clans without the Mac?"

"Eventually they'll grow, or be swallowed up by a larger clan." she shrugged. "It is the way it's always been. A clan must have a strong laird who cares for his clan as a father."

"The Pitcairn clan are wild ones." Caity added as she stared out the window into the beautiful day dawning. "At summer festivals they would come, and they were quite the entertainment."

Arthur found himself sitting on the edge of Bronwen's bed listening to both women. They were a fount of knowledge, and though their meeting was unsavory, it was certainly turning out to be advantageous.

"I remember them." The littlest McCree piped in. "They were the lads that threw off their plaids and went leaping into the lake."

"Aye and the one, barely older than Rhoswen and Dierdra, pulling Mother into the lake with him. Da was laughing so hard." Caity remembered with a grin.

"That was the year before she took ill…" Bronwen smiled wistfully.

While the three girls began to reminisce Arthur looked to Merlin and the two men left the room. They walked down the hall in companionable silence, and Arthur looked to find a thoughtful expression on the old Woad's face. Without Arthur having to ask, the man began to speak. "Finding these women will be quite beneficial to you Arthur. My people have not had much dealing with the clans to the north. Instead we've always kept to ourselves, and they've done the same."

"I agree, they do seem quite knowledgeable. The runners we've received telling us of the various clans impending visits seem to verify what they tell us."

"They are very much what Briton once was. A people without a leader, though the girl, Bronwen, tries her best to hold them together."

"A bit of an exaggeration don't you think?" Arthur smiled wryly. "They are but seven girls."

"Yes. Seven. I noticed the significance of that number." Merlin smiled a secretive smile. "I wonder…Did you notice that as well?"

Arthur just stared at the older man. "What do you go on about now?"

Merlin's smile widened. "Just a comment. Seven. Seems to be a lucky number." The two men continued walking. "The girl, Bronwen, she was close to death when you brought her."

Arthur frowned. "I didn't realize she was that ill."

"The wound on her side was quite infected. It is now healing nicely. And this lung affliction that has hit them all; it had progressed to a dangerous point. I go to check on two of her sisters now. The twins. Rhoswen and Dierdra. They are quite…feisty." Merlin chuckled as they stopped outside another door and arguing could be heard inside.

Arthur followed Merlin into the room where the two women were tucked up and shouting at each other across the room.

"Well, if ye weren't as stubborn as a goat then ye'd know I was right, and ye were wrong!" One of the girls snapped.

"I'm as stubborn as a goat? Well, I suppose I'd rather be as stubborn, rather than look like a goat!" The other threw back.

"Girls!" Merlin shouted and both girls immediately snapped to attention. "What have I said about this arguing? Perhaps I should put you in separate chambers…"

"Nay! I'll not be separated from meh sister!" The girl who answered got a mulish look on her pretty face.

"I'd like to see who would try to separate us." The other girl huffed.

Arthur felt a smile quirking at his lips. "My ladies, we just worry for your health. Perhaps if you were less…spirited?"

Instantly both faces appeared contrite. "Of course yer Highness."

"Anything you say yer Lordship." From what he could see the only difference between the two girls was the color of their eyes and their hair. One girl had wildly curling red hair, and bright green eyes. The second girl had the same red hair, only no curl, and dark blue eyes. The blue eyed girl looked at him with interest. "Is it true you could lash us for attacking you and yer men?"

"Aye! Or have us put to death?" The other chimed in.

Both pair of eyes looked at him with complete and utter morbid fascination. Okay. "It is true. For the attack, I could have you killed. Or even punished. However, my men and I have discussed this and we will not be doing either of these things."

"You'll not be punishing Bronwen!"

"Nay! You'll have to go through us first!"

"Be calm my ladies." He soothed. "I have no intentions of punishing any of you, let alone the Lady Bronwen. She is resting comfortably, and as soon as you are all well, you shall all be reunited. In fact, I'm sure Lady Caitlyn and Lady Kerri will be down to visit you." This seemed to appease the girls and they settled down for Merlin to check on their progress.

Arthur left the room shaking his head in amusement.

Bronwen stared out the large window of the chambers she'd been staying in. She watched the people moving around starting the day in the village which sat at the foot of the castle. Never had she seen its like; this castle and that town. All her life she'd lived in the Highlands. The small village that had been watched over by her father's keep hadn't been nearly as bustling as this. There she'd known each inhabitant by name; she'd been able to walk from one end of the village to the other in little time. Here it seemed it would take her the entire day to make her way through what appeared to be a giant maze.

So far in the past week she hadn't ventured out of the large room. Her sisters all came in to visit her often, but she was still regaining her health. Merlin, and the large man, Dagonet, often came to check on her as well, but the King had not made a return visit. Part of Bronwen was glad for that. There was something very sad in his dark gaze, and it reminded her of her Da after her mother had passed away. Being the eldest, Bronwen remembered it all quite well. The grief that surrounded her Da had been palpable. The grief they'd all felt had been thick and painful. Nessa McCree had been both beautiful and kind; warm and sweet natured, but sometimes her temper would show and woe be to whoever stood in her path. Bronwen had inherited her raven colored hair from her mother, but her deep blue eyes were completely Angus McCree. Her mother had always said that all of the girls were the best of both of them. Their brothers had been very much their father's sons; Callum and Brogan.

"I believe you are well enough if you wish to venture into the village." The voice came from behind her, and she managed to avoid jumping.

Bronwen turned to look at the gentle giant of a man. Surprising that Brigid had been able to surprise this man enough as to render him unconscious. "To be quite honest it all seems a bit frightening." She told him and turned back to the view. "There seems to be so much happening at once. The village our clan held would have only fit into a wee section of yours."

Dagonet joined her at the window. "A few years ago we were quite a bit smaller. Now our people are merged with Woad; Some who choose to live here and others who just move back and forth for trade. As soon as this castle was built the village seemed to double."

"Funny to think the Woad are distant relations to my people. They seem smaller, more wiry."

"Perhaps that comes from living conditions. They live in the forest and have adapted." Dagonet noticed Arthur in the doorway.

"Aye. Perhaps." The girl seemed lost in thought.

"There is nothing to fear down there. You will not be swallowed up by it." Dagonet said kindly.

"The MacGregors will come before the others. They will think to gain the ear of the King against their foes. They will na be pleased to see us; witnesses to their savagery. Mayhap ye should warn the King to be on his guard."

"Warning taken."

Bronwen shut her eyes for but a moment and then regarded Arthur. "Perhaps they will na mean any harm to ye and yers, but they are treacherous."

"I believe you." He told her. "You are not the only one who speaks of them and their actions. Lady Kerri assures me they are the Devil's own hounds." He tried to make the comment light, and it did bring a smile to her worried face. Such a young face to be so drawn and pale with tension. Arthur didn't tell her of the other fears the girls had; the fears that they would be given to the MacGregors as spoils of war. She probably knew that already.

"We were not always so innocent in the feud between our clans. The McCree made many raids on the livestock owned by the MacGregors, but rarely did either of the two clans do real harm."

"Your sister said it was believed he killed his three wives?"

"Aye. His first wife died in childbirth with his son, Athol, the only thing that seemed suspicious was the midwife. She said that Meg, his wife, had been quite beaten. His second wife fell to her death from the top window of their keep, and his third wife, Lassie, was strangled to death. Niall did not deny killing her, only said she'd broken laws punishable by death. Only, he didn't wait to bring the charges or punishment in public."

"For feuding families, you seem quite knowledgeable." Dagonet said through lifted eyebrows.

"Oh, aye, the midwife for Meg left the clan, joined ours. The story of the second came with summer festival. And the death of Lassie came to us from Connor McLaren, her brother."

"What could she possibly have done that would have meant death?" Arthur asked.

Bronwen shrugged. "There are very few things. Plotting against the laird, attempting to murder the laird or another member of the clan, adultery…" A scowl crossed her lovely face. "I canna believe she'd take another man to her bed." She missed the fleeting pain that moved across Arthur's face. "And of course there's no asking her now that she's dead. She'd not even been buried and he was looking for a new wife."

Merlin entered the room hearing her last few statements. "Tell us Bronwen, should he have waited for more time to pass?" He ignored the narrowed eyes that Arthur turned on him.

She looked at all of the men curiously. "Well, it's difficult to say. Meh Da remarried a year after meh mother passed, she died fighting the Saxons. He loved meh mother fiercely, but as laird he needed someone to oversee the little things. Run the household, care for the wee ones. Colleen, his new wife, did this for him. She was a kind woman. My brother Callum married twice; when his first wife Moira died he married Keely four months later. It did na make him feel less for Moira." She shrugged. "Sometimes I think, it does na matter how yer heart aches. What matters is necessity." Bronwen looked from Merlin's pleased face to Arthur's stormy expression. "Forgive me for speaking out of turn yer Highness. I've never been wed, or even pledged to a man. I'm sure na every man feels the same."

She looked so earnest, so different from the defiant woman who'd taken them captive. "Don't fret. Merlin is just reminding me that a king needs a queen." It was easy to the uncertainty in the girl. "He feels I let it go too long."

Dagonet snorted and after bowing slightly to Bronwen, left the room. "I merely show you the way Arthur. You must have a Queen. No matter your love for Guinevere, a King must produce heirs to leave his kingdom to."

"And I remind you Merlin what happened to the last woman I got with child." Arthur's lips tightened with anger.

"That is nonsense Arthur! You cannot hold all to that standard." Merlin snapped.

It appeared that Arthur was going to lash out at Merlin, but Bronwen interrupted. "Well, yer Highness, I must agree with Sir Merlin that ye canna think every woman would end up as yer first love. Some women just aren't able to bear children. It's just foolish to think yer to blame." Arthur looked at her with widened eyes as she scolded him, but she continued now turning on Merlin. "And Sir Merlin, it is truly King Arthur's choice on whether or not he takes himself a new wife. Perhaps it is good for a ruler to have the soft understanding of their mate, but with or without does na diminish his ability as leader. Ye canna be forcing that choice upon him. He still grieves for the loss of his lady. Do na ye remember losing yer own?"

Merlin's mouth snapped shut and a gleam entered his eyes. "And you were never…pledged, as you call it?"

"There was a boy that I grew up with; we always assumed we'd marry when we came of age. He died in battle against some Romans who wandered to far North." Bronwen shrugged once more. "After Galen died I never met another. I'm sure eventually my father would have made a match for me, but war came."

Merlin was about to speak again, but squeals and shrieks echoed as Kerri, Neely, and Caity ran into the room. It would have been hard to miss Bronwen's face soften as she looked at her younger siblings.


	3. Chapter 3

The castle seemed a bit strange in the past week and a half with laughing and giggling girls running to and fro. It isn't that they weren't used to youth running amok in the castle, Bors brood certainly did enough of that, the girls were just very different. They didn't inspire the same parental or brotherly affections. The girl Neely was singing constantly, and the twins bickered as if it was the only way they knew how to speak to each other. Well, either arguing or defending each other staunchly. Caitlyn McCree had been a tremendous help to Arthur, letting him know what to expect from each clan. When she was with him, or one of his knights she seemed to be at ease, but sometimes townsfolk, or someone else would approach and she became timid and fearful. It reminded Arthur of the atrocities that had been committed upon her. The second sister, Brigid, seemed extremely serious. She seemed to have a thoughtful approach to thinking, and though she spent time with the others, it seemed that she spent much time reading on her own. Arthur had been amazed to learn that all of the sisters read and wrote. It had obviously been something their mother had felt was important for them to learn.

To his knowledge Bronwen had not left the chambers she'd been in since the day the two groups had met. He didn't know why, but figured she'd go out on her own when she felt ready to. He was in his personal study when Dagonet entered. His friend was quiet for quite some time before Arthur looked up and noticed the grim expression the large man wore. "What troubles you Dag?"

"'Tis the Lady Bronwen. She is well, healed in body, but she does not venture from her rooms. At times I will enter and she will be staring down at the village and there is such a sense of loss surrounding her. It is almost visible to the eyes Arthur."

"She has lost much in her young life." Arthur murmured as a reminder.

"Yes, but it is time to start living again. Time to move forward and celebrate the future. Yet she only goes through the motions. She will not speak to me of what troubles her, and to my knowledge she hasn't spoken to her sisters. The Lady Caitlyn speaks with me frequently, and she is quite concerned for her sister. They look to her as they would a parent."

"I will speak to her Dag." Arthur offered and immediately saw relief enter the other man's countenance. "In fact I will go now."

"Thank you Arthur." Dagonet murmured, and they left the room together.

Once again Bronwen stood at the window staring down at the busy streets of the village. Two children were trying to lead a goat back to their home, and the goat was not having any of it. Seeing the stern look on the little girl who could be no older than four; her little hands on her hips, brought an ache to the woman's heart. Once there had been similar children in a village much smaller. Once she'd seen her people laughing and bartering. She'd been in charge of keeping her sisters alive for these last few months that she hadn't had a chance to grieve for everything they'd lost. Now though, now there was time to sit back and remember. Aye, and she remembered it all.

She knew her sisters were worried, but how could she reassure them, when she herself didn't know how to make herself feel less pain? Everyone in this castle had been kind to them. Even after their less than auspicious meeting. The kindness didn't erase the fear. When the MacGregors came everything would change again. Could she trust that King Arthur wouldn't be swayed by whatever the MacGregor told him? He was a man, and men, besides a very select few, weren't to be trusted.

Arthur took in the sight of Bronwen at the windows silently. She was a tall girl. Someone had given her a light blue gown, and it was fitted to her body falling slightly off her shoulders. Her jet black hair fell to the swell of her backside and was tamed into a long braid. Bronwen's hands were resting lightly upon the stone sill of the window. Dag was right, just looking at her profile Arthur could see something was wrong. "I've been told you haven't left these chambers since coming to us."

Her head tilted ever so slightly so she could view him from the corner of her vision. "There has been no need to leave."

"What of your sisters? They run to and fro constantly."

"Are they a trouble to anyone?" A slight frown marred her pretty face.

"Not at all. It is odd to have such energy moving about, but it is good practice for when Bors children are all grown up."

"My sisters visit me often." Now she smiled faintly. She looked down for a moment and then looked at him fully with a wry grin. "I must admit I'm a bit fearful of this place we've found ourselves in. Everythin' is so different from where we come from. I'm not quite sure I belong here."

Arthur joined her at the window. "Once we all felt that way as well; my knights and me. That changed." Now he faced her and spoke softly. "You and your sisters are welcome here for as long as you wish to stay."

"I thank ye for that yer Highness." Bronwen swallowed past a lump in her throat. "Everything we've known is gone. I don't think I really realized that until I was lying in that bed healing up. We're all grown for the most part, but Kerri, she's still so young. And I'm a poor substitute for our mother."

Arthur offered her his arm. "Come, let us walk for a bit."

He stared at her and after a moment of hesitation she took his arm and they began to walk. At the doorway she stopped briefly before stepping through. It didn't take them long to reach the outer battlements. He walked her along the stones high above the village, and for once the sun was shining and holding the much seen rain at bay.

"Has it always been as lovely as this?" she asked with her head tilted to the side in consideration.

Arthur couldn't help the faint smile that came to him. "No…Not long ago I couldn't wait to go back to Rome. And my knights couldn't wait to be free and heading for Sarmatia, or what was left of it." He stopped and leaned forward to look over the land. "They'd been bound to Rome's rule for fifteen years of servitude. We almost lost Dagonet before they were finally free. Several of my knights almost died in the last battle against the Saxons."

Bronwen leaned on the wall next to him, and she too reviewed the land. "Yer lucky that ye did na lose them all."

"Yes. I was very lucky. It could have gone many different ways." He murmured. "I became king, I married Guinevere, and we built Camelot. My knights, although free, chose to stay."

"Yer people look to be happy yer Highness, which tells a person much about the way ye rule." She was quiet for several moments. "I know about loss. Meh Mother was tending to the wounded when a Saxon took her from us. She screamed, and he throttled her with his bare hands. And my Da, I know he burned up in the fire, but na once did he scream. Such a strong man…" Bronwen turned frightened eyes to Arthur. "I'm na that strong."

"You don't have to be. Nothing will happen to any of you here." He assured her; not quite understanding where her fear stemmed from.

"Ye'll na always be able to protect us." she sighed bitterly. "The MacGregor will na rest as long as we live as McCree. He'll either want us dead, or he'll petition to absorb us into his clan. If tha happens, we'll be forced to marry those he chooses for us."

To Arthur's mind it seemed barbaric. Something to the effect of 'to the victor goes the spoils'. "Do you have other options?"

"Aye. But very few. We can petition another clan; it's possible my Uncle will accept us."

"That's it?"

Bronwen smiled sadly. "A clan's way of life might na make much sense to ye, but 'tis how we've survived as a people. Only now it makes my blood run cold and my bones feel brittle."

"There are many customs I must learn about it seems." Arthur looked at the woman beside him. "Bronwen, you are a fine mother to your sisters. You've already taught them much, and taken great care with them. No one could have expected better."

She tensed and stood up straight. Her entire body vibrated with anxiety. "There, ye see?" she asked pointing to a distant flash of something. "That be the MacGregor and his clan. Early as I thought. I must go. I must find meh sisters. I do na want the MacGregor to see any of them before 'tis necessary."

Arthur nodded once, and looked below. He let out a piercing whistle and Bronwen saw the man, Tristan, come into view. "It seems we have visitors my friend, find the girls and bring them to Lady Bronwen."

Tristan nodded once and melted into the crowds. Arthur turned and escorted Bronwen back to her chambers.

The gates opened to admit the clan MacGregor, and it seemed as if all held a collective breath. Arthur and his knights made their way to the small group in the lead. Three men in dirty linen blousing and blue and amber belted tartans waited for them. Arthur had thought the plaid fabric as a blanket of some sort, but Caity had explained that each clan had different colors which represented their families. Similar to a family crest. The plaid tartans served multiple functions allowing the wearers to move easily, and use them as bedding or blankets.

The large man in the middle, who was obviously the leader, had a haggard appearance. He was quite large equaling Dagonet in height, but was older and heavier than the knight. His dark hair was liberally streaked with gray, and his dark eyes were deep-set in his face. They flashed with something sadistic, and Arthur could well imagine the man killing his wives. It was obvious the man didn't fight as much as he might have in his youth because his body was turning to fat.

"Ye'd be the new King?" he growled in a deep guttural voice.

"That's right. I'm King Arthur Pendragon." Arthur said never breaking eye contact with the other man. Arthur could feel Lancelot and Gawain tensing beside him. It appeared his knights did not like these men either. "We welcome you to Camelot."

"Camelot?" The man's accent was even heavier than the McCree sisters. He looked around with arrogance riding him visibly. He said something to the man behind him in a language Arthur didn't know. It sounded similar to the tongue of the Woad people, but different enough that he couldn't even pick out words. The man turned back to Arthur and his knights, "We are the MacGregors. I am laird of the clan. Are we the first to arrive then?"

Something moved behind the man's eyes. Some form of calculating intelligence that told Arthur that this man was not to be underestimated. He had a feeling that it would only lead to tragedy if he did. "In a manner of speaking you are the first clan to arrive, although we've been assured that more clans are following, and are only days away. It seems you'll have your pick of camp sites."

A wide grin stretched the man's face revealing yellowed teeth. "Splendid."

"My man Jols will show you where you can set up. I hope you'll accept my invitation for you and your people to dine with us this evening." Arthur spoke formally.

"Aye. 'Twoud be our pleasure." The man smiled pompously.

"I'll send someone to escort you to the dining hall then." Arthur said pleasantly. "Now I'll leave you to get set up."

Tristan strode down the hallway, ever aware of his surroundings, and headed back for a secluded spot to view the clan who'd arrived early. A faint whispering came to him from the shadows of the corridor, and his hand tightened ever so slightly on the hilt of his sword. Never blinking he wasn't surprised to see both Brigid and Caitlyn step slightly into view.

"Is it true?" Brigid asked softly. "The MacGregors have shown early?"

Tristan nodded briefly.

Worry shone brightly in Caitlyn's blue eyes. "I do hope ye're bein' careful. Surely the King does na trust them?"

"I go to keep watch." He responded in a quiet voice. At this statement fear entered her eyes. "They won't know I'm there." He told the girl, unaccustomed to explaining anything he did.

"I hope ye're right." Brigid nodded. "But remember, they can hide in plain sight, and ne'er be noticed. A large part of any of our fighting techniques relies upon the ability to conceal ourselves."

"Trust me, I remember." His words brought a guilty flush to both girls' faces, and it made him grin faintly. "I must go."

Arthur and Lancelot made their way down the stone staircase slowly as they spoke. "I do not like the look of that man Arthur." The dark knight spoke grimly.

"Nor do I Lancelot, nor do I. These clans are turning out to be far more political than I had thought."

"I do not envy you your position as King today."

"I did not think you envied it any day." Arthur smiled wryly. "Tonight they dine with us, and they see that the clan of McCree is not entirely dead as they'd once thought. I do not know what kind of reaction the MacGregor will have."

"Perhaps we should double our soldiers on watch?"

"Agreed." Both men fell silent as quiet weeping made its way to them. They continued down the stairwell to find Neely McCree sitting at the bottom. She held her arms around herself to keep from shaking, and her sobs were held in almost silently. "Lady Neely, what troubles you?" Arthur murmured as he and Lancelot approached the girl.

She shot to her feet in surprise, and looked at them with some fright. Her green eyes were drenched in tears that had obviously been falling for some time. "Oh, excuse me yer lordship. I did na realize ye were there."

"Why do you cry Lady?" Lancelot prodded gently.

For a moment it seemed that she wouldn't speak, but then she took a deep breath. "The MacGregors have come. We know what tha means." Neely calmed herself. "They'll be askin' fer us. Thinkin' that by rights we belong to them. I'll na share a bed with one of those barbarians! I'll na do it! Bronny won't let them take us. She'll try to fight them and they'll kill her!"

"Calm yourself Lady." Lancelot murmured.

Neely began sobbing in earnest and Arthur held the young woman to him. He rubbed her back and found himself wondering if this is what it was like to have children or siblings; this brotherly affection. "Lady Bronwen will not have to fight anyone."

"She'll fight before she marries the MacGregor!"

"What makes you think the MacGregor will want to marry her?" Lancelot asked curiously.

Neely scrubbed at her tear stained cheeks with both hands. "She is the eldest, and so beautiful. Fer years the MacGregor offered peace to our Da if he gave her to him. Da refused. He used her friendship with Galen as a shield for much of that time. I do na actually believe they'd have wed had he lived. Bronny is too fierce a creature to have been happy with someone as gentle as dear Galen was." A small smile flit across her face. "When he died the MacGregor began to pressure our Da again. He sent many gifts that Da returned. The MacGregor became angry and threatened Da. It was an empty threat at the time; we were strong. He told Da that he'd take us all. All of Da's daughters." Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. "He waited until after the Saxon marauders had done their damage. Then they came in the night and burned us down."


	4. Chapter 4

"The women are highly concerned Arthur." Dagonet murmured from his spot at the Round Table.

Lancelot swirled the mead in his goblet. "The Lady Neely is practically inconsolable."

Arthur sighed in frustration. "I know these things, but there is not that I can do. We can not hide these women away from the world. Eventually there will be mention of them as MacGregor's people move about the village. Better that they make their stand this first night. There is nothing that will harm them while we watch."

"These women…these girls…" Gawain seemed to ponder his words before speaking. "They are fierce warriors. Strong in spirit and determination, but the fear that burns within their hearts overwhelms them."

All of the men were silent for several moments as they contemplated these words. Finally, Arthur stood. "Come we have guests arriving. We must make them welcome." His face was grim as he moved towards the doors.

The MacGregors had arrived and were making themselves comfortable in the large dining hall of the Castle of Camelot. Bronwen's nerves were on fire and her belly felt as if she'd swallowed solid iron. Instead of wearing the soft ladies clothing they'd been in since arriving, the women had once again donned their leather armor. Their father had trained them to fight since they'd learned to walk. Not one of the women had doubts in their abilities, but they'd lost much, and it tore at their self belief. The armor they now wore gave them an added confidence. Kerri was the only one of the sisters not attending the dinner that evening. There had been shouts and tears, and it had wounded Bronwen's heart to see her sister so upset, but not for anything would she take a chance of something happening to her youngest charge.

Bronwen squared her shoulders and prepared to enter the hall.

Arthur's men sat to his left and MacGregor and his advisors were to his right. If MacGregor had noticed the empty seats interspersed between Arthur and his men he'd said nothing. So far the man had been polite, but the tone held an unmistakable edge. The man was waiting for something to happen. Arthur had the feeling that if something did happen the man wouldn't be unhappy about it. No, Niall MacGregor was a man who lived for conflict.

The man's second, obviously a son or close relative by the looks of him leaned into MacGregor and murmured something. "So tell me King Arthur, are we expecting more company?"

Arthur was about to answer when, almost as if on cue, the large double doors to the dining hall creaked open and Bronwen and her sisters strode forward. Murmurings and shock could be heard among the MacGregor clan almost immediately. The sound of weapons being drawn was unmistakable, and Niall MacGregor looked as if he'd seen a ghost. At first his face was slack but then it turned quite grim.

The women moved forward lithely and gracefully. No sound came of their movements and their heads were held high.

"What is the meaning of this?" MacGregor practically spit.

"Yer highness." Bronwen spoke in her clear, lilting voice. "Forgive us our tardiness."

"Easily forgiven Lady Bronwen, please take your seats." Arthur instructed. Finally, he turned towards MacGregor who's eyes were narrowed into dangerous slits.

"This is what ye meant by 'in a manner of speaking.' This riff raff." The older man muttered.

Arthur's eyes hardened. "I would suggest you not insult any guests at this table. I am quite aware of the disagreements or feud between your clan and theirs. This is not something we shall be addressing this evening."

"You might want to watch how you speak to me." MacGregor growled. "King ye might be, but ye know not the ways of our people; the people of the North, and ye're still young compared. These ladies," he said the word scathingly, "are nothing more than cattle that should ha' been claimed months ago."

Lancelot sank back into his chair for all of the appearance of a man at ease, only his friends knew this to be untrue. "These ladies are our honored guests. They are the guests of King Arthur Pendragon. As are you. Perhaps that is something you should keep close in mind."

"Forgive my father for any unpleasantness." The man just to MacGregor's right murmured civilly. "This appearance is quite a shock. Until she strode in we believed Bronwen and her sisters to be dead."

Bronwen leaned forward and took a sip of her honeyed wine. "I suppose when someone is left in a field after being gutted the sight of them walking would be quite startling."

The man's hands tightened on his mug and his eyes glittered angrily. "The hardships you've endured must have been horrifying. It's quite the luck then that you all survived. You'll be able to return with us when we take our leave."

"Oh, I don't think we'll be returning to the North for some time." Bronwen told him with a sardonic smile. "My sisters and I are enjoying our stay here in this new Briton."

"And you are all welcome here as long as you wish my lady." Arthur said with some chivalry.

"Do not use the King's ignorance of our ways against him Bronwen of no clan." The man said tightly.

Arthur looked at the other man with some amusement, but Bronwen spoke first. "The King has no ignorance in this matter Doyle MacGregor. But we've bended our knee and sworn our fealty to him and him alone. You said it yourself. We are of no clan. We do not have to join yours, or petition the McDonnells for the right to merge with them. We are free to roam wherever the wind takes us."

"Yer father promised ye to me." The MacGregor snapped out.

"Nay, me father would ne'er ha' done any such thing." Neely hissed.

"Yer lies will na get ye far here MacGregor." Brigid's calm voice stated. "Not one of the daughters of the former clan McCree will be fillin' yer bed."

"From what we've heard, dear little Caity likes the feel of a man in the dirt, not a bed." One of the men snickered.

Caitlyn let out a gasp, and Tristan stood with his hand on his weapon. "I believe the King made it clear these are Ladies."

Before he could say more MacGregor stood. "Forgive Anulf, he's a bit slow witted." The man said abruptly. "We'll take our leave for the evening. Perhaps tomorrow we'll all have clearer heads."

"Can ye believe the nerve of the man?" Bronwen fumed as she paced back and forth in the chambers she'd been occupying during her stay. She stopped and faced Arthur who leaned quietly against the wall near the balcony. "I'll na be joined with him or any of his evil brood." Her face was set in stubborn lines.

Just that moment, staring into her face, feeling the anxiety reverberating off of her slender body, Arthur knew he was in trouble. This girl; this strong, stubborn, determined girl, had managed to slip past his defenses. She'd managed to bring up feelings within him that he'd thought were dead and buried with his Guinevere. Just the thought of the man, MacGregor, trying to claim her brought a savagery up within him that he'd never experienced. Arthur strode to Bronwen's still form and he reached out and grasped her shoulders. She looked up at him with widened eyes. He'd surprised her. At first he saw fear, and shock, but then as he continued to gaze down at her he saw an answering need. Arthur lowered his mouth and claimed hers.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Someone previously asked for ages of the girls. Here you go.**

**Bronwen25**

**Brigid23**

**Rhoswen21**

**Dierdra21**

**Neely19**

**Caitlynjust 18**

**Kerri8**

&&&&&&&&&&&&

Arthur sat staring into the fire which flickered merrily. One hand gripped the arm of his chair and the other held a pewter tankard of ale; his third of the evening. A part of him chastised himself for kissing Bronwen McCree, but another part of him wishes he'd done so sooner. Her lips had been like a small piece of heaven, but Arthur knew that the feelings that had grown for the girl could cause all sorts of problems. Then again another part of him whispered in his ear that all of the problems could be damned if only he could kiss her again.

So now he sat pondering his situation. He certainly would not seek out a dalliance. He'd not been much for those before Guinevere, he certainly wouldn't begin with an innocent girl. Neither would he give her or her sisters to the clan that now sat outside his doors. His guests, he thought moodily. No, he hadn't liked the clan MacGregor. He also had thrown out the possibility of the women going to another clan. Arthur would not consider them leaving Camelot. It left him very little option. He wondered what she would think of his decisions. Not that it would matter, in the end of it Arthur would make his choices and they would all have to live with what he decided.

&&&

Bronwen lay on her bed and brushed her fingertips over her still sensitive lips. He had kissed her. She had let him. And she had enjoyed every moment that his lips touched hers. Arthur was a powerful man, and she didn't mean that in the manner that he was king. No, his grip on her arms had been strong and they'd excited her even as they'd startled her. The way he'd looked upon her before he'd claimed her mouth with his own...she'd never forget it.

Never before had she felt this way. Her friendship with Galen had been just that...friendship. Something soothing and constant. Never had she thought she would feel such...well, she didn't even know the word to describe it. Passion? Desire? Something was building deep in her belly, and her mind wouldn't stop moving. It felt as if she spun in circles. He'd looked at her after the kiss, run his hand along her cheek, and then bid her goodnight. Bronwen turned onto her side and closed her eyes. It was so very easy to picture his face in front of her. Whatever did any of this mean?

&&&&

Caitlyn moved as silently as possible along the ramparts of the wall enclosing Camelot. She could look down and see the fires of the camp made by the MacGregors, and they sent a huge fear singing through her body. She wished they'd never come. They were from the Devil himself.

"What are you doing up here by yourself?" the voice came softly from behind her startling her a bit.

She turned to find Tristan standing behind her. "I…I'm nervous having them so close. I can't help but want to keep an eye on them."

"Do not worry yourself on them." He told her in that same soft tone. "Not one of those men will come near you or your sisters."

"I'm not sure you'll be able to stop them if they've put their minds to it." She told him sadly. "They've the power of the Dark Lord on their side."

Tristan cocked his head to the side. "I do not believe in the Devil." He murmured. "And I've destroyed much more evil men than those who sat among us this night."

"Nay, I do not want ye fighting them on our behalf." She told him and fear shone in her eyes. "I do not want ye hurt. I fear for ye."

Tristan smiled slightly. "I do not believe anyone has ever been afraid for me."

"Well, I am." She told him. "Yer a good man…"

"No, I can honestly say I am not." He told her. "I am not a good or kind man."

Caitlyn approached him and hesitantly touched his cheek. "Yes, ye are. Ye're a good and kind man to meh." She blushed slightly and stepped away. "I'll adjourn to me chambers then. Goodnight Sir Tristan." Without a backwards glance she hurried off and down the steps out of his sight.

Tristan watched her until she was gone and contemplated her words for quite a while before resuming his post.

&&&&

"Enter." Arthur called out at the rap on his door.

Merlin entered and stood looking at the man who sat silently in front of the fire. "What troubles you Arthur?"

"I've come to a decision Merlin." Arthur began and stood to face his former Father in law, now advisor only.

"I'm thinking this decision has something to do with one of the McCree girls?" Merlin said innocently.

"Indeed it does. I will not allow the MacGregor clan to take the girls as if they were chattel. If they desire they will stay here in Camelot. "Arthur began.

"That is good. They are special girls." Merlin approved.

"I've also come to a decision regarding your concern."

"Yes?" Merlin asked with a small smirk to his face.

"I have decided the Lady Bronwen and I are to be wed. We will marry two weeks hence when the rest of the clans are here."

"And does she know of your plans?"

"No." Arthur told the man. "I have not yet discussed this with her."

"And what if she doesn't wish for this union?"

"Unfortunately it does not matter what she wishes for. I am king and I have made this edict. I will tell her on the morrow and then it will be announced to all."


	6. Chapter 6

Bronwen stood staring from her windows at the milling village. Some of MacGregor's men made their way to and fro, but so far none seemed bent on troublemaking. She hoped it remained that way. She had slept fitfully all evening as dreams had moved through her ever tumbling mind. One moment it had been dreams of Arthur, the next dreams of a man slicing into her belly with a knife, and yet another in which she was forced to wed the MacGregor. The dreams had all left her shaken for their different reasons.

"It seems I always find you staring out those windows."

His voice brought her to herself and she turned to face him. Bronwen curtsied. "Your Highness."

Arthur moved to the stiff and formal woman and gently clasped her shoulders making her stand. "You and I have no need to stand on formality when it is just the two of us I think." he told her softly and watched as a blush stole its way across her cheeks. Instead of letting her go he kept her close and her hands came to rest on his chest. Her gaze met his own.

"You look tired." she whispered and the concern was immediately evident.

"I did not sleep well last night."

"I am sorry we've brought such trouble to yer doors."

"Nay, that is not why I didn't sleep. I've had to make some decisions Bronwen. Hard decisions and I do not think you will be pleased with them."

Fear tightened in her belly and for a moment she didn't think she could breathe. "I see." Bronwen dropped her gaze. "What have ye decided then?"

"I hope you'll forgive me." he muttered and then kissed her temple. He cleared his throat and spoke firmly. "You and I will be wed in two weeks time."

Bronwen felt as if someone had slammed a hammer into her chest. "What? That canna be…"

Arthur looked at her quite calmly. "It shall be. As my wife and queen, your sisters will stay in Camelot until matches are made. You and I together will make these matches. You and your sisters are not going anywhere."

"Arthur, you've lost yer mind!" Bronwen gasped. "I am no Queen. I am no wife. Ye do not love meh. I will na marry without love." She'd pulled away from him and backed up.

"We await the arrival of all of the clans. Once they have arrived we will be wed. Make no mistake Bronwen. You came to Camelot to bend your knee to the King. You swore your fealty. I am King Arthur, and this decision has been made. You and I will be married." His jaw had tightened.

"Why?" she cried out angrily. "Why? We'll go with one of the other clans…"

"No!" He shouted. "You will not. I will not leave it to chance that you are not somehow taken by the MacGregor. I will not leave it to chance that he will not somehow injure one of your sisters. You are here; you are mine; and you will stay mine!" Arthur moved to where Bronwen trembled with anger. "I am sorry you do not love me." his voice was almost a growl. "I am sorry that everything does not work out the way a fairytale should…but I cannot give you up now. I cannot."

Tears leaked from Bronwen's eyes but Arthur paid no heed and brought his lips down to hers savagely. It almost felt as if he would devour her, and though she tried to fight the desire, she couldn't and soon she too responded to the kiss. Perhaps she did not love him, but by God she did desire him.


	7. Chapter 7

Brigid looked up in surprise as the doors to her chamber flew open and she found her eldest sister in the doorway. "Bronny, is everything a'right?" She'd been reading one of the King's many books, so she set it down gently and stood.

"I do not know Brigid." Bronwen whispered, and the emotion was raw and almost anguished.

Brigid hurried to her sister and took the other girl's hands into her own. "Yer hands are like ice dearheart. What is troubling ye?"

"The King…" Bronwen's voice trembled. "Brigid, I must tell ye something, and we must speak of it quickly before any or our sisters hear." At Brigid's worried nod Bronwen continued. "King Arthur has just informed me we are to be wed two weeks hence. At the meeting of the Clans when they come to bend their knees."

Brigid's eyes widened. "Married? You and the King? I…don't know what to say…did he tell ye why?" Brigid led her sister to the bed and the two sank onto the edge.

"Aye. I'll try ta remember his words…he said he would na leave it ta chance that I would be taken by the MacGregor, and he would not leave it ta chance that one of you would be taken or injured. He said that we would be wed and then together we would make matches for all of you. He said I was his and would stay his…." Bronwen's eyes had focused on the wall past Brigid. "Last evening he kissed me Brigid. He kissed me and it felt like nothing I'd ever felt before, and then after he told me we were to be wed, and we argued…he kissed me again, this time with anger, and again I couldn't help myself but ta kiss him back."

Brigid sat quietly as she contemplated Bronny's words. "Ye have feelings fer him."

Tears began to stream from Bronwen's eyes. "Aye, and I don't want ta. He does na love me."

Brigid leaned into her sister. "But Bronwen, he wants ye, and that's the beginning. You can make him love you Bronwen McCree."

"How? How could a man like Arthur, a king, ever love meh?" Insecurity and fear shone in her blue eyes.

Brigid shook her head gently. "Oh Bronny, how could he not? Yer as smart as they come, and beautiful to boot. Yer fierce and loyal, and ye care fer everyone around ye. Arthur obviously has some feelings fer ye if he worries so. He's a good man." Brigid brushed Bronwen's hair back from her face. "And ye will make him a good wife, and a fine Queen."

Bronwen hugged her sister tightly, and Brigid returned the embrace. "We'd better tell the others before they learn of it through other means."

Arthur had called his knights to the Round Table and they now sat waiting for him to speak. Most of them were curious; they had no idea what was going on in his head. They'd been shocked when Merlin had entered, but even that wasn't completely out of the norm these days as the older man acted as both advisor and liaison between Arthur and the Woad who still lived in the forest.

Finally Arthur stood and cleared his throat. "The other Northern Clans will be arriving in Camelot within the fortnight. And the MacGregors…they make camp and wait. I do not trust them. They will look for any weakness we will show."

"The MacGregor wants the McCree women." Lancelot murmured. "He will try to take them by force. They have no clan to protect them. Since they have sworn fealty to you are we to offer them protection?"

"I plan to do more than that. I am to marry. For the past while it has been brought to my attention that a King should not be alone. After the events of the past few days I have come to agree with this sentiment. Bronwen McCree and I will be married at the gathering of the clans. Once we are wed we will begin to make marital arrangements for her sisters. Not right away, but in time…I will not leave them to be taken by that man or his brood. Suffering will no longer be their fate. They have already had to endure far too much in their young lives." Anger rumbled through Arthur's words. "When they are my family, the King's family, the MacGregor will not think of taking them…and if he does he will feel my blade."

If they were shocked by Arthur's words they did not show it. He dismissed them and they filed out of the room. All except for Tristan. The scout sat quietly staring at his king.

"Does something trouble you my friend?" Arthur asked softly.

"I wish to make a request."

This surprised Arthur. Never in the years Arthur had known him had Tristan asked for anything. Even when he'd almost died at the hands of the Saxon leader Tristan had healed in silence. "Whatever you ask I shall try to give."


End file.
